


Kym's Coffeeshop

by vlaplomb



Category: Purple Hyacinth (Webcomic)
Genre: Crack, F/M, No Plot/Plotless, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:48:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24460813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vlaplomb/pseuds/vlaplomb
Summary: A coffeeshop au on steroids that literally no one asked for: Kym is a not-so-common-barista, and when the morning rush hits, her "helpful" skills get slightly out of hand.
Relationships: Lauren Sinclair/Kieran White, Lila Desroses/Lukas "Grumpy Cat" Randall, William Hawkes/Kym Ladell
Comments: 10
Kudos: 52





	Kym's Coffeeshop

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing about this is canon.  
> I swear this started out slightly normal and ran amok as I went on.  
> Also, I brought Harvey back from the dead!

Kym adjusted her nametag, leaning over the cool countertop. Sighing, she inhaled the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the shop, tempted to make herself a fourth cup.

What was the worst her boss could do? Fire her? She snatched a mug from the shelf under the counter, weighing it in her hands. Quite frankly, she was more concerned about how a fourth cup of coffee would affect her rather than whether or not Boss Hermann would fire her. What even is impulse control? she asked herself, strolling over to the brewing coffee. Over her shoulder, she surveyed the nearly empty cafe. The only other person in the shop was Lila, a quiet but cheerful regular who was sipping her cappuccino and typing furiously on a laptop.

It was quite the image.

The door jingled, and Kym winced. She caught sight of the clock on the wall. 8:00 already? she thought, bracing herself for the morning rush.

A tall, strong, dark-haired man strolled up to the counter, with an auburn lady trailing absently behind him. Kym recognized them - or rather, the ever-present argument that they always appeared to be in the midst of. Nearly every day, they came in on their way to work, ordering coffees and proceeding to argue over their drinks for about half an hour before rushing off to work, late. Still, she couldn’t remember their names. She had only been a barista at this shop for 2 weeks, after all.

“Good morning!” Kym said cheerily, bearing a smile that threatened to break her face. “What can I get for you on this fine day?”

“I would love a latte with a shot of vanilla,” the man said, shooting Kym a smirk and a wink. The lady looked off to the side grumpily, huffing a sigh.

She’s probably jealous that her idiotic husband is over here flirting with me, Kym thought to herself, punching numbers into the cash register. Her fourth cup of coffee would have to wait - this was interesting. “Sir, could I get a name for the order please?”

“Kieran White,” he said, enunciating each syllable pointedly.

“Hey!” It was Kym’s turn to heave a sigh. “Contrary to popular belief, baristas can spell, actually quite well."

He laughed. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Sure.” Kym turned to Kieran’s poor companion, fingers ready to take her order. “And Mrs. White? What can I get for you?”

Kieran burst out laughing while his lady companion stood in her place, fuming. “What do I look like? His mother? Please put our orders on separate tabs.”

“I think she was implying that you’re my wife,” Kieran choked out between bouts of laughter.

“Oh, even worse!” She threw a hand on the counter. “Again, separate the tabs. I would like a caramel macchiato. Please put it under the name Lauren."

“No, no, keep the tabs together,” Kieran said.

“Which is it?” Kym asked, knowing fully well what was about to transpire.

The two of them broke out into a full-fledged argument right there in the middle of the coffeeshop. Kym groaned underneath their banter, scanning the shop again. Lila watched from her corner, her eyes wide behind her cute wire glasses. She gave Kym a little wave. In return, Kym flashed her a fleeting smile before returning to watching the idiots in front of her.

“Same tab,” Kieran said decisively. Kym pretended not to notice the gun Lauren held at her side or the switchblade Kieran was wielding.

“So, who’s paying today?”

“I’ll pay,” Kieran said, eyeing the pistol.

“But you got yesterday,” Lauren shot back. “I thought we alternated.”

“Think of it as making up for the whole ‘Mrs. White’ ordeal.”

“Fair.” Kym took his debit card. “Care to add a tip for me kindly playing referee despite my lowly barista position?”

“Definitely,” Kieran said. Kym grinned smugly, swiping his card. She would always remember their names now.

Remembering their candid weapons, Kym swiftly crafted their drinks. Instead of writing on the outside of Lauren’s cup, she scribbled a short message on the inside before filling it with her macchiato. “Kieran!” she hollered, placing their drinks on the counter. Already, there was another customer at the counter, making Kym wish she shared this shift with another coworker. Too many people to deal with.

She plastered a smile across her face, looking this man up and down. He looked like he could use a bit of cheering up - while still young, everything about him was drooping with a ticked-off aura. “Good day, sir! Can I interest you perhaps in our signature watermelon frappuccino?”

He screwed up his face in disgust. “What? No! Is that today’s special or something? It sounds ghastly.”

“Oh, no, I just noticed the severe lack of watermelon menu items the other day and concocted a quick little recipe! It’s on our secret menu, you know how people talk about that nowadays-”

“Please spare me,” he said. “I would just like a black coffee.”

Kym huffed in annoyance. So bland. Still, she punched it into the register. “And a name for your order?”

“Lukas,” he said. “With a k.”

Kym smirked. “Interesting. I’ll be right out with that.”

She got to work making his coffee, very aware of his glare on her back. “You can go sit down, you know. I asked for a name for your order for a reason.”

Sighing, he took a few steps back. Kym relaxed, finishing off his order by writing “Kukas” pointedly on the side of his disposable coffee cup in Sharpie. “Would you like some sugar or cream?”

“I suppose.”

“You can find some at that table over there.” Kym gestured towards Lila’s table, where she was still contentedly sipping and typing like a madwoman.

“Why that table? Isn’t there some at other tables too?”

“Oh, the kind you want is at that table.” Kym handed him the cup, his pointlessly written name facing away from him. “It’s premium. Enjoy.”

She watched as he stalked over to the table, disgruntled. “Well, call me a matchmaker today,” she said under her breath, proud to be of service. Perhaps Lila could sweeten him up a bit.

It was a shame that not all of the shop’s patrons tipped as generously as Kieran had for her extra services. She was really killing this whole barista gig. Resting her chin in her hands, she leaned her elbows against the counter, surveying the scene. Lauren and Kieran fighting, Lukas and Lila staring at each other, confused…

She loved her job. Being a barista was truly her calling.

The bell rang again. Kym jolted up to see a young man with short, cropped brown hair and a smattering of freckles. He peered at her in concern. “Miss? Are you alright?”

“Yes! How can I help you?” She poised her hands above the register, ready to take his order.

“Well, I’ve never been here before,” he said shyly. “What do you recommend?”

“My personal favorite is my newest creation, the watermelon frappuccino!” She looked at his face, blank and obviously holding in a grimace. “But I know that’s not everyone’s jive. Luckily for you, though, I have a coveted knack for determining what a person’s spirit drink is!”

He stared blankly at her. “Like...spirit like alcohol? I don’t really drink.”

“No! Like a spirit animal.” She drummed her fingers on the counter, thinking. Tucking a section of hair behind her ear, she glanced back towards the ingredients available. “What’s your price range?”

“I guess around $5? Give or take a couple dollars.”

“Alrighty. I’ll be right back with you...what was your name?”

“Harvey.”

“I’ll be right with you, Harvey.”

Kym got to work mixing up a frappuccino, careful to measure out the proportions correctly. She knew exactly what drink to make for him: a cinnamon bun frappuccino.

When she turned around with the drink, Harvey was still waiting for her at the counter. She handed over the drink and a straw, ringing him up. “What is it?” he asked, taking a dubious look at her masterpiece.

“A barista never gives away her secrets,” she said. “Just try it, and see if you can guess.”

He took a sip, and his eyes widened in surprise. Kym practically burst with pride. She had really nailed it this time-

“Does this have...cinnamon in it?”

“Yes!” she said with a grin. “You’re so good at guessing. Now, I’m going to have to take this last guy’s order - could you step aside for a minute, sir?”

He nodded, and a blonde police officer approached the counter. Kym couldn’t hide her grin. She recognized him - her favorite patron.

There was something so rewarding about antagonizing him.

“William!” she said, delighted.

He sighed. “You again.”

“My name is Kym! You know that!”

“I do know that.”

“Can I interest you in a watermelon frappuccino?”

“I would like the usual.”

“Willame.” She begrudgingly typed in his order. “You get iced coffee every day. Don’t you think you ought to mix it up a bit?”

“You know what? Fine. Just make it quick. I’m already running late.”

Kym rolled her eyes, adding the tip to his bill for him. “Here’s your receipt.”

“I didn’t tell you to put on a tip!”

“Consider it a token of appreciation for spicing up your drink for you.” She set off to make his coffee.

“I’m surprised you haven’t been fired yet. If I were your boss, I would have fired you a week ago.”

“Quiet! Don’t let Boss Hermann hear you. He’s in the back.”

“Could I speak with him?”

“No, Karen. I’m making your drink right now. Relax.”

Kym worked in silence for a minute, pulling out a hand whisk to work with his drink. Thickening the mixture, she added it over milk and ice. “There you go, Willame,” she said, scrawling the incorrect spelling of his name needlessly on the side of his cup in a mocking script.

“Interesting,” he said, examining it. “It’s...whipped?”

“Yep!” She grinned. “I’m hip with the kids. It reminded me of you.”

“Why?”

“Your hair looks like whipped coffee.”

“What?” he asked, alarmed.

“Why are you so concerned? Do I look like I’m going to go eat it? Now drink your coffee and have a decent day, Willame.”

He muttered a “thank you” before disappearing through the door. Kym was almost sad to see him go. His blue-clad form disappeared down the sidewalk.

“Uh, miss?”

“Yes?” she asked. “Oh! Harvey. How do you like your specially crafted cinnamon bun frappuccino?”

He held a hand over his face. “It tastes pretty good! Do you have a bathroom anywhere?”

“This is a public dining area, of course we do. Why? Is something wrong?”

He dropped his hand from his face to reveal that the corners of his mouth and eyes were rupturing with some sort of a red rash.

“Harvey! Are you allergic to cinnamon?” He nodded, embarrassed. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“I didn’t want to offend you.”

“What a cinnamon roll,” Kym said under her breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She handed him a tube of ointment from beneath the counter. “You know what, cinnamon bun isn’t really your drink. I think you’re more suited to a Caprisun.”

“Okay? And why do you have ointment with you?”

“I prepare for the worst.”

Slightly terrified, Harvey hustled off to the restroom, just as Lauren and Kieran stepped back up to the counter.

“You two again! Who’s winning?”

Kieran furrowed his brow. “Winning what?”

“Nevermind. How can I help you?”

“My drink tastes kind of like ink,” Lauren said, visibly perplexed.

“Well, did you look inside it?” Kym asked.

Lauren popped the lid off of her drink, tilting it so the liquid revealed the bottom of the cup. Both she and Kieran leaned in to peer inside.

“Will you marry-” Lauren stopped reading to slap Kieran in the face.

He jumped backwards, rubbing his face. “What? What does it say?”

Lauren glared at him and Kym. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“Maybe…?” Kym said. “Well, I thought you were married! You all argue like an old married couple, but when I found out you weren’t married, I thought I had to fix it.”

Lauren sighed. “Could I speak to your manager?”

Before Kym could say Karen, Hermann stepped out of the back, as if on cue. “What is going on out here?” he asked, scanning the room with a confused expression.

Everyone started talking at once, recounting their grievances to him. Even Lukas had come back up to the counter to voice his concerns.

Hermann sighed, taking over the register. “I’ll take it from here,” he said, turning to Kym. “You’re fired.”

Kym wrung her hands. “Really?”

“What do you think?”

Kym took off her barista visor, swiping gathered sweat from wearing the stupid thing all morning from her hairline. “I think… being a barista isn’t really my calling.”

“Being a barista isn’t anyone’s calling,” Hermann said, rolling his eyes.

Kym ignored him, eyes darting around the room with newfound assurance. “I think my actual calling is to be a police officer.”

With that, Kym pivoted and walked right out the door in the direction that William had gone.

**Author's Note:**

> JUST DO IT! DON'T LET YOUR DREAMS BE DREAMS! -Shia Labeouf  
> Lol when I picture Lila typing it's like Madiah and her calculator iykyk


End file.
